


"No."

by pleasurific



Series: TW Kink Bingo [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Intimacy, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:44:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15153314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasurific/pseuds/pleasurific
Summary: He doesn’t obey commands, doesn’t let someone else control anything about him, about his body.





	"No."

**Author's Note:**

> For Teen Wolf Kink Bingo square "orgasm denial".

“No.” 

It shouldn’t work. It should  _ not _ do what it does. It’s one short word, from someone that Derek doesn’t take orders from, ever. 

And yet. 

He grits his teeth, tries to ignore the tingling that normally comes just before his fangs drop, and he clenches all the muscles he can. 

“Good.”

Another short word, and Derek should fight against the way it seems condescending, but it doesn’t. Instead, there’s a fluttering in his chest, content,  _ safety _ . Still, he can feel his dick throbbing as a breeze blows across the room. Derek’s claws dig deeper into the mattress he’s lying on, legs spread, dick hard and leaking as it twitches when it touches his skin. He doesn’t remember being this hard in his life, this close to coming without anything touching him. He doesn’t know  _ how _ he’s managing to fight against the urge to grab his cock and get himself off, when all it would take is maybe five strokes. 

Then there is a touch, a gentle brush of a finger trailing from his ankle up past his knee and to his hips. A hitch in a breath when Derek’s cock jerks as the finger slows over its base, then another one when his abs clench as the finger trails up the length of his dick, stopping just under the head. 

A drop of liquid comes out of the tip of his cock, and the finger moves away almost immediately. Derek whines at the loss of the touch, quietly, but enough to earn himself another hitch in a breath that’s closer now. Close enough that he can feel body heat that’s not his own, and the dip of the mattress by his side. 

“No.” 

Again, with the little bit of clarity of mind that he still has, he thinks that it shouldn’t take this little, shouldn’t be so easy for one word to make him tense and hold himself back. 

Then the body heat intensifies, and Derek allows himself to take a deep, steadying breath. 

The scent hits him like a truck, and it almost tips him over the edge. Almost. 

_Stiles._ _StilesStilesStiles_. 

He doesn’t take orders from the kid who spent years driving him crazy in utterly different ways than this. He doesn’t obey commands, doesn’t let someone else control anything about him, about his body. 

And yet. 

Stiles says “no”, and Derek lets him. Derek doesn’t protest, doesn’t fight, doesn’t  _ come _ . 

“Good.”

Derek’s shoulders relax. He’s still on edge, he wants to come, he wants to let go. But something in his chest hooks and tugs in unexpected ways when Stiles says “good”. Something settles in his mind, and no matter how strong the urge for release is, he doesn’t. 

“So good, baby,” Stiles whispers in Derek’s ear, and the finger is there again, tracing the length of Derek’s cock with a featherlight touch, from the head to the base and back. Derek can feel his dick pulsing, hardening impossibly  _ more _ , and he’s trying not to think about how he wants to rip the sheets, how he wants to turn, roll over, bury himself inside Stiles and fill him up. 

“ _ Please _ ,” he says with a breath, through clenched teeth, as Stiles’s palm replaces his finger and rests on top of Derek’s throbbing flesh. 

“Almost,” Stiles tells him, and his long, warm fingers wrap around Derek’s cock and start stroking it. 

Derek whines again, but he holds back, by sheer force of will. Because he doesn’t want to disappoint, doesn’t want to come before Stiles says he can. 

“So good,” Stiles mutters, and Derek clenches his eyes closed, grits his teeth as precome drips from the tip of his cock and onto his stomach with every slow stroke of Stiles’s hand. 

“Okay, now,” Stiles says then, and his grip tightens on an upward stroke. 

Derek can feel his body arching up, feels his dick throbbing under Stiles’s touch, come spurting across his stomach, halfway up his chest. There’s a ghost of a kiss against his lips, a joyful chuckle, but Derek is barely aware of it as darkness takes him, his breath short and ragged. Then Stiles’s hand tightens a little more, and Derek comes again, his brain turning off completely, nothing but Stiles’s touch and his breath against Derek’s cheek existing anymore. 

He’s safe. He’s perfect. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, I'm on [tumblr](http://pleasurific.tumblr.com/) too.


End file.
